Artistic Entomology
by Lady Kes
Summary: Response to this Week's Unbound Challenge.


**Title:** Artistic Entomology

**Author:** Lady Kes

**Rating:** G

**A/N:** Response to the weekly Unbound Challenge.  Written in about twenty minutes, and completely silly.

**Disclaimer:**  Not mine.  Don't sue.  

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"Do meal worms ever just snack?" Brass asked Sara,as they looked down at one example of the maggot art Grissom was exhibiting that night at a gallery.

"I would have to do some research on that," Sara replied smilingly, "but I'm fairly certain Grissom could tell you -- if he wasn't so busy getting the placement of his squiggles just right."

"Hey, if you guys are done yakking, I could use some help here!" Nick said plaintively from the top rung of a rather ancient ladder.   

Sighing, Sara moved to steady the ladder Nick was standing on.   Somehow the entire night shift had ended up at the Galleria Del Arte, helping Grissom hang his many maggot art paintings.

"Who knew the guy had this much free time?" Warrick grunted as he and Greg passed by carrying a four by six foot canvas covered in blue, green, and purple abstract curves.

"What do you think that one's supposed to represent?" Brass whispered to Catherine, who was staring at a triangular painting in total disgust.

"I think it represents a five foot eleven workaholic attempting to pretend that he has other interests." she whispered back

"I do have many interests, Catherine." Grissom said, startling them both.  Catherine contemplated once again how much trouble she would be in if she put a bell on her taciturn supervisor. At least then she would know when he was sneaking up behind her.

Without seeming to note the rolled eyes and raised eyebrows Brass and Catherine exchanged, Grissom began to explain the paintings. 

"The art the maggots create is completely random, expressing the seeming lack of control we have over our modern lives. This one" he motioned to the small triangular canvas, "is indicative of the connection we attempt to build between ourselves and others.  Each point of the triangle is a person. The paint between them represents the challenges inherent in interpersonal relationships.  Each person's motivations and personal feelings are a different color.  If it goes badly, it's just a mess of paint."

"No kidding" muttered Brass.

"But if it goes well, it's a gentle dance of person and personality, combining into a beautiful design and a beautiful relationship," Grissom finished with a slightly wistful smile.  

"Yeah, okay, Gil.  Why don't you wander on over to Sara and explain that you and she are like the two sides of the triangle and that only within the grander scheme of  the lab can you two have a beautiful relationship. I'm sure she would love being compared to the squiggles of a maggot," Brass said rather sardonically.

"What am I being compared to?" Sara asked, leaving her place at the base of Nick's ladder to join the conversation after hearing her name.

"Oh, Grissom's just giving us his theory on how maggot art mirrors relationships. It's fascinating.  Why don't you let him tell you while we…uh, fold programs," Catherine said as she and Brass headed for the main entrance of the gallery.

"Comparing maggot art and relationships, huh Griss?  How's that one work?"

"Well, the maggots move randomly, indicating the random directions that our lives can take, but in the end they form a cohesive whole, indicating our innate desire to have a cohesive relationship with someone." Grissom said, somewhat shyly.

"And who do your maggots say you would like to have a 'cohesive relationship' with?" Sara asked with her famous Sara Smile.

"Er, uh, err" Grissom stammered.

Sara's smile grew wider.  This was the Grissom she knew.  She was beginning to worry that her cute entomologist had been replaced with an overstuffed modern art critic, but "um" was not in the vocabulary of any art critic she'd seen. She decided to rescue him before he got stuck in one-syllable world.

"Tell ya what, why don't we go out and have dinner together to celebrate your gallery opening since it looks like the guys have all the paintings hung?" she suggested.

"Um, er, that, that would be great," Grissom managed to say.   

Sara gently grabbed his arm and steered him towards the entrance as one of the wires on the painting Nick had just hung up began to give way and the painting headed for the floor.

"Duck and cover!" Nick called, from his perch on the wobbly ladder.


End file.
